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  • Maintaining Critical Thinking in the Era of AI

    Maintaining Critical Thinking in the Era of AI

    There was a time, not so long ago, when “thinking for yourself” felt like a fairly straightforward instruction.

    You read. You listened. You asked questions. You compared opinions. You made a decision. Sometimes you got it right. Sometimes you got it spectacularly wrong and learned a lesson the hard way, which, inconveniently, is often the most effective way to learn anything at all.

    And now?

    Now we live in a world where answers arrive before we have even fully formed the question.

    Artificial intelligence can summarise, suggest, write, plan, analyse, design, predict and produce. It can help us move faster, work smarter and see patterns we may have missed. It can also, if we are not careful, make us lazy in the most dangerous place possible: our own minds.

    Not lazy because we stop working.

    Lazy because we stop wondering.

    Lazy because we accept the first answer that sounds confident.

    Lazy because we confuse speed with wisdom.

    Lazy because we outsource not only the task, but the tension. And the tension is where thinking lives.

    Critical thinking in the AI era is not about rejecting technology. That would be like refusing to use a calculator because numbers matter. It is not about being suspicious of every tool, every answer, every innovation. It is about staying awake. Staying curious. Staying human.

    Because the future will not belong to the people who can simply use AI.

    The future will belong to the people who can question it, direct it, challenge it, interpret it, and know when to walk away from it.

    The real risk is not that AI will think for us. It is that we will let it.

    AI is powerful because it gives us something we deeply crave: certainty.

    A neat answer.
    A structured plan.
    A polished paragraph.
    A confident recommendation.
    A summary that makes the complex feel manageable.

    And honestly? That can be wonderful. We are all tired. We are all carrying too many tabs open in our browsers and in our brains. A little support is not the enemy.

    But critical thinking begins with one brave sentence:

    “This may be useful, but it may not be true.”

    That sentence is a safeguard. A pause. A small act of intellectual self-respect.

    It reminds us that fluency is not the same as accuracy. Confidence is not the same as competence. Convenience is not the same as wisdom.

    AI can give us a map. But we still need to know where we are going.

    So, how do we stay sharp?

    Not by becoming more cynical.

    Cynicism is not critical thinking. Cynicism is often just disappointment wearing clever shoes.

    Critical thinking is more generous than that. It is open, but not gullible. Curious, but not naive. Hopeful, but not easily manipulated. It allows for possibility, while still asking for proof.

    It is the ability to say:

    “Show me another angle.”

    “What am I missing?”

    “Who benefits if I believe this?”

    “What evidence would change my mind?”

    “Is this actually true, or do I just like the way it sounds?”

    That last one is particularly uncomfortable. Which probably means it matters.

    1. Start with better questions

    In the AI era, the quality of your thinking will often be determined by the quality of your questions.

    Poor questions create shallow answers.

    Better questions create better thinking.

    Instead of asking:

    “What should I do?”

    Ask:

    “What are three possible options, and what are the risks, rewards and hidden assumptions behind each one?”

    Instead of asking:

    “Is this a good idea?”

    Ask:

    “Under what conditions would this be a good idea, and under what conditions would it fail?”

    Instead of asking:

    “Write this for me.”

    Ask:

    “Help me clarify my argument, identify weak points, and strengthen the message without losing my voice.”

    The goal is not to get AI to think instead of you. The goal is to use it as a thinking partner, sparring partner and mirror.

    Try this exercise: The Three Better Questions Rule

    Before accepting any AI-generated answer, ask three follow-up questions:

    1. What assumptions are you making?
    2. What is the strongest opposing view?
    3. What information would make this answer more accurate?

    This simple habit can turn passive consumption into active thinking.

    And active thinking is where your power returns.

    2. Slow down before you agree

    We are living in the age of the instant response.

    Instant messages.
    Instant summaries.
    Instant opinions.
    Instant outrage.
    Instant expertise.

    But wisdom rarely arrives instantly.

    One of the most underrated critical thinking skills is the ability to pause. Not forever. Not dramatically. Just long enough to notice whether you are reacting or reasoning.

    AI can accelerate the work, but you must still protect the pause.

    Before you accept a recommendation, share a post, make a decision or repeat a “fact”, stop and ask:

    “Do I know this, or have I merely seen it?”

    There is a difference.

    A big one.

    Try this exercise: The 90-Second Pause

    When you receive information that triggers a strong emotional reaction — excitement, anger, fear, certainty, superiority — wait 90 seconds before acting on it.

    During that pause, ask:

    • Why did this affect me so strongly?
    • What does this confirm that I already believed?
    • Would I still believe this if it came from someone I disagreed with?
    • What evidence is missing?

    Emotion is not the enemy of critical thinking. Emotion is data. But it should not be the driver of the whole vehicle.

    3. Learn to recognise your own bias

    Bias is not a flaw reserved for “other people”.

    We all have bias.

    We are shaped by our childhoods, cultures, fears, hopes, disappointments, privileges, wounds, algorithms, friendships, education and the stories we have told ourselves for years.

    The dangerous person is not the one who has bias.

    The dangerous person is the one who believes they do not.

    AI can reflect bias too — from the data it was trained on, from the way a question is framed, and from the assumptions hidden inside a prompt. But long before we interrogate the machine, we must be willing to interrogate ourselves.

    Try this exercise: The Bias Check

    When making an important decision, write down your answer to these five questions:

    1. What do I want to be true?
    2. What am I afraid might be true?
    3. What evidence am I ignoring because it is inconvenient?
    4. Who would disagree with me, and why?
    5. What would I advise someone else to do if they were in my position?

    That final question is a beautiful little truth-teller.

    We are often wiser when advising others than when defending ourselves.

    4. Separate information from interpretation

    AI can gather information quickly. But information is not meaning.

    A list of facts does not automatically become insight.
    A trend does not automatically become truth.
    A summary does not automatically become understanding.

    Critical thinkers know how to separate what happened from what it means.

    For example:

    Information says: “Engagement dropped this month.”

    Interpretation says: “People no longer care about our work.”

    But is that true?

    Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe the content format changed. Maybe the audience was distracted. Maybe the message was unclear. Maybe the platform shifted. Maybe the work matters deeply, but the story has not been told well enough yet.

    Critical thinking gives us options before it gives us conclusions.

    And options are everything.

    Try this exercise: Facts vs Stories

    Take a current problem and divide a page into two columns.

    On the left, write: What I know for sure.

    On the right, write: The story I am telling myself about it.

    Be honest.

    You may discover that half your stress is not coming from the facts, but from the story you have built around them.

    Once you can see the story, you can test it. Challenge it. Rewrite it. Sometimes even release it.

    5. Build a personal “thinking board”

    High performers often surround themselves with people who confirm their excellence. That is pleasant, but not always useful.

    If you want to maintain critical thinking, you need people who can challenge you without humiliating you. People who ask better questions. People who are not impressed by your title, your confidence, your urgency or your beautifully formatted strategy document.

    You need people who can say:

    “I see where you’re going, but have you considered this?”

    “That sounds good, but where is the evidence?”

    “I think you may be solving the wrong problem.”

    “Are you choosing this because it is right, or because it is familiar?”

    These people are gold. Treat them accordingly.

    Try this exercise: Create your Circle of Challenge

    Identify three people:

    1. Someone who understands your work.
    2. Someone who thinks differently from you.
    3. Someone who cares enough to be honest.

    When you are facing an important decision, ask each person the same three questions:

    • What am I not seeing?
    • What part of this feels weak?
    • What would make this stronger?

    Do not defend yourself while they answer.

    Just listen.

    Your ego may not enjoy this exercise. That is often a sign that it is working.

    6. Practise thinking in opposites

    One of the quickest ways to sharpen your thinking is to argue the opposite of what you believe.

    Not because you are abandoning your values. Not because every opinion deserves equal weight. But because intellectual flexibility is a strength.

    If you cannot explain the opposing argument, you probably do not understand your own argument as well as you think you do.

    This matters deeply in the AI era, because algorithms are exceptionally good at feeding us more of what we already believe. Over time, our worldview can become a very comfortable room with no windows.

    Critical thinking opens a window.

    Sometimes a door.

    Occasionally, the whole roof.

    Try this exercise: The Opposite Day Method

    Choose one belief, plan or decision you currently hold.

    Now write a case against it.

    Ask:

    • Why might this be wrong?
    • What would a thoughtful critic say?
    • What evidence supports the opposite position?
    • What would I do differently if the opposite were true?

    You do not have to change your mind.

    But you do have to prove that your mind is still open.

    7. Use AI to expand your thinking, not shrink it

    AI can be a shortcut. But it can also be a gym.

    Used poorly, it gives you answers.

    Used well, it gives you resistance.

    Ask it to challenge your proposal. Ask it to identify logical gaps. Ask it to generate alternative perspectives. Ask it to play the role of a sceptical investor, a cautious parent, an under-resourced community member, a future customer, a board member, a journalist or a critic.

    Do not only ask AI to make you sound good.

    Ask it to make you think better.

    Try these prompts

    • “Challenge this idea from five different perspectives.”
    • “What are the hidden risks in this plan?”
    • “What would someone who disagrees with me say?”
    • “What assumptions does this argument depend on?”
    • “What evidence would strengthen or weaken this conclusion?”
    • “Give me three options I have not considered yet.”
    • “Help me distinguish between what I know, what I assume and what I need to verify.”

    That last prompt may change everything.

    Because many mistakes begin when assumptions dress themselves up as facts and walk confidently into the meeting.

    8. Protect your own voice

    There is another risk in the AI era. A quieter one.

    We may become more polished and less personal.
    More efficient and less original.
    More impressive and less honest.

    AI can help us communicate, but we must be careful not to let it sand down all our edges. Your lived experience matters. Your instincts matter. Your strange little metaphors, your hard-earned lessons, your humour, your tenderness, your way of seeing the world — these are not inefficiencies.

    They are fingerprints.

    Critical thinking is not only about logic. It is also about discernment. Knowing what to keep. Knowing what to question. Knowing when the cleanest sentence is not the truest one.

    Try this exercise: The Voice Test

    After using AI to draft something, read it aloud.

    Then ask:

    • Does this sound like me?
    • Is there a sentence here that I would never actually say?
    • Where can I add lived experience?
    • What feels too generic?
    • What truth am I avoiding?

    Your voice does not need to be perfect.

    It needs to be present.

    9. Make room for not knowing

    This may be the most radical skill of all.

    In a world addicted to answers, learn to say:

    “I don’t know yet.”

    Not as a weakness. As a discipline.

    “I don’t know yet” keeps the door open.
    “I don’t know yet” leaves room for evidence.
    “I don’t know yet” protects us from pretending.
    “I don’t know yet” is often the beginning of wisdom.

    AI may give us the illusion that every question has an immediate answer. But some answers require conversation. Some require context. Some require courage. Some require time. Some require us to become different people before we can understand them properly.

    Not knowing is not failure.

    It is fertile ground.

    10. Return to your values

    Critical thinking is not just about making smarter decisions.

    It is about making decisions you can live with.

    The most productive option is not always the most profitable.
    The most profitable option is not always the most empowering.
    The most empowering option is not always the easiest to explain.

    So before you choose, ask:

    • Does this align with who I want to be?
    • Does this serve the people I am responsible to?
    • Does this create value, or merely extract it?
    • Does this decision still feel right when I imagine explaining it to someone I respect?
    • Is this choice rooted in fear, ego, pressure or purpose?

    AI can help you optimise.

    Only you can decide what is worth optimising for.

    A simple weekly practice

    If you want to strengthen your critical thinking, do not wait for a crisis. Build the muscle weekly.

    Set aside 30 minutes once a week and reflect on one decision, idea or challenge.

    Use this structure:

    1. The issue:
    What am I thinking about?

    2. The facts:
    What do I know for sure?

    3. The assumptions:
    What am I treating as true without proof?

    4. The alternatives:
    What are three other ways to see this?

    5. The challenge:
    Who would disagree, and what might they be right about?

    6. The values:
    What matters most here?

    7. The next wise step:
    What action can I take with the information I have?

    Not the perfect step.

    The next wise one.

    There is a difference.

    The human advantage

    The AI era will reward speed. But it will still need wisdom.

    It will reward efficiency. But it will still need empathy.

    It will reward pattern recognition. But it will still need imagination.

    It will reward those who can produce. But it will deeply need those who can pause, question, interpret, connect and care.

    So yes, learn the tools. Use them well. Let them save you time. Let them expand your reach. Let them support the work.

    But do not hand over the keys to your mind.

    Keep asking better questions.
    Keep challenging easy answers.
    Keep making space for doubt.
    Keep listening for what is unsaid.
    Keep choosing depth over noise.
    Keep your humanity close.

    Because in the end, critical thinking is not simply the ability to find the right answer.

    It is the courage to stay awake while looking for it.

  • If We Only Teach Our Children One Thing

    If We Only Teach Our Children One Thing

    If you had to choose only one thing to teach your children – what would it be? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. At strange times. I think becoming a parent changes the way your brain operates. It has for me at least.

    In a society filled with danger of every imaginable kind, we will never be able to protect our children 24/7. We consume a constant always-on, stream of media, that sub-consciously, programmes us, as to the standards for beauty, intelligence, and acceptance by society at large. Self-doubt, anxiety, depression and judgement have never been more prevalent in society and we find so many people, especially children, feeling as though they are not enough.

    Not smart enough, not funny enough, not likeable enough for them to have friends. This creates vulnerability. And vulnerability can be a superpower when harnessed, but when it is dismissed, or exploited – that’s when we create the need for external validation.

    This is not the place where I highlight all the dangers our littles will face in their lifetime. I fear there are too many – and that they are ever-evolving. So instead, this is where I remind myself to NEVER be too busy to listen. What that really means, is always being available when my child wants to tell me something. 99% of the time, it’s going to be a silly anecdote or to ask for the 100th glass of milk. But this is where I allow him to feel safe. Validated. That he always knows what he feels matters – no matter what.

    When we feel safe, we can be vulnerable without the risk of being exploited or endangered. It’s often during these moments of unhurried listening that he tells me about how he feels. During play, or after bedtime stories, when we chat with no agenda – that glimmers of what weighs heavy on his heart, is revealed. It’s during these times that he has told me things like “I am a bad kid”. Firstly, this is not true, but that doesn’t matter. In that moment it was his truth. He had done something during the day, made a mess, not listened or broken something (I can’t remember and it’s not really important), and it had stuck with him to the point that he now believed he was a bad kid. This was such a stark reminder to me of what the messaging is, that our children receive, whether it is intended or not. That being a “good” or “bad” kid, is based on behaviour.

    He is four. We may think that a lot of what is felt or perceived at this age – doesn’t really matter in the long run. That their imagination has gotten the better of them or that it’ll pass. It won’t pass. If we do not allow these feelings the space and time they need to be processed and resolved, they are shoved deep down into our subconscious and this is where we start a lifetime of being unable to process emotions and perpetuating the cycle of self-doubt and the need for external validation. We need to teach our children they are good kids no matter their behaviour. That they are loved in abundance and unconditionally. This doesn’t mean we overlook discipline – but discipline should offer opportunity to grow, not be a weapon used to break down confidence and belief in self. Behaviour is much easier to address than self-doubt and anxiety.

    We cannot change the world overnight. We cannot control what dangers will cross paths with our children. But, what we can do, is teach them to be brave. Teach them resilience. Teach them that their feelings are valid and that they have a right to use their voice. For themselves, for others, for all creatures. We can endeavour to teach them to be kind. Even to those who are not kind to them. But we can also teach them that they never have to spend time with anyone who makes them feel bad about themselves. We can teach them that we are all different – and that’s what makes them beautiful. That they don’t have to do, like, be, the same as others, in order for them to be accepted. We can teach them that not everyone will like them, and there may be people that they don’t like. This is ok. We don’t have to be liked, or like everyone to live together in peace. We can teach them that they are enough just because they exist.

    As a parent I often have to remind myself to take a step back and not react emotionally. It’s never easy to hear that you child has been hurt. But one of the greatest gifts we can offer our children is to learn how to navigate life on their own. To equip them with the skills they need to stand up for themselves, instead of swooping in like the superhero we want to be for them. The only way to really save them – is to teach them to save themselves. If we can unlearn how we see failure and hardships for ourselves, we can teach our children that it is often these times that we learn the most important lessons out ourselves. I’m not sure we can teach empathy. But we sure can encourage it.

    Resilience is what sees us through to the other side. Resilience is the ability to overcome challenges and tough times. Resilience is the one thing that we can consciously instil in our children, that will enable them to face any situation and learn through it.

    So resilience is what I hope to teach. And to learn. Because there’s still such a long, and adventurous road to walk – and how wonderful that we get to share this journey with each other.

    What is the one thing you’d choose teach, and ultimately, to learn?

  • 10 Lessons from 20-True…

    10 Lessons from 20-True…

    2022. A transitory year. A year to make up for lost time, save time, to fit more time into every hour. A year of waiting, for “normal” to return, for freedom, for fears to subside. A year where we experienced both the best and the worst of humanity. A year filled with hurt, and atrocities. Tragedies and heartbreak. But, also a year filled with the kindness of strangers, and smiling faces and hopeful hearts. A year in time, to remember, to take stock and a time to make changes before it’s too late.

    Thank you 2022, you too were filled with lessons (tears and laughter) and they went a little something like this:

    1. Time doesn’t change anything. You do. Stop waiting to “just get through” this week, this month, this year, for things to get better, slow down or to allow for a little time for you. The days pass in a blur and a blink, and if we do not consciously commit to ourselves, to our own self-care, we will soon enough find ourselves burnt out and buried under a pile of self-recriminations. Fill your cup. Even if it’s just for 10 minutes at a time. Self care is a practice. Keep going til you get it right.

    2. You can’t force the people you love to let you in. We all carry baggage. Some of it we display openly in brightly coloured suitcases and some we tuck away in the folds of our coats. Sometimes we have to take a step back and love people from the heart, even if physically we remain very far apart. Love is never in vain. The invisible string will always remain.

    3. Sometimes getting older is hard to accept. Even though we know it’s a privileged denied to many, we still have days where we look in the mirror inspecting the fine lines and silver hairs and wish we could turn back the proof of time. I say proof because would we really want to turn back time? Erase the moments, the memories, the collection of everything that has made us who we are? I think not. So here’s to finding joy in the proof, of the passage of time. Of savoring a season secure in who I am, regardless of the packaging. We will never be thin enough, fit enough, pretty enough, happy enough until we wholeheartedly, embrace that we are enough, exactly as we are.

    4. Purpose looks different when you change your perspective. Impact, change and making a difference can take many forms. Be open. Always be ready to learn. And when something feels uncomfortable – push though. What is life if not an ever-changing kaleidoscope of opportunity and beauty?

    5. Trust your gut. That’s all. Trust it. No matter what.

    6. Love is not enough. Relationships in every form need nurturing, commitment, compromise and above all acceptance. Talk. Have the difficult conversations. Connect. Stay tethered to those who hold you to account and be the kind of friend and partner you would wish for your child, sister, brother, best friend. It’s much easier to sleep at night without a heart full of should have, could have, would haves.

    7. Parenting is an extreme sport. The stakes have never been higher, nor has the reward ever been greater. If you wonder daily if you are getting it all wrong – chances are you are getting a lot of it right. And no – there’s absolutely no way to love a child too much. Be their safe space. This world is far scarier than the one we grew up in. But there is still so much light. The more we love, the more light we create.

    8. Being right is far less important than being happy. Find peace in letting go. Being right is never worth losing people (or sleep) over. We all have our own path to walk. Focus on your journey and let others do the same. Be kind. Be mindful. And be forever hopeful.

    9. Be agile. Be adaptable. And DO NOT COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY HATCH. Hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Fortune favours the brave but success is the result of grit and belief.

    10. Like attracts like. The more time you make, the more time you will have. The more love you give, the more you shall receive. The more you do, the more your capacity will increase. Manifest more of what you want to experience in the world.

    Here’s to raising vibrations. Setting intentions and going forth and kicking ass. 202(free)3 is going to be magical and I am so here for it!

  • The War Inside Us (and The Lessons We Learn While Doing Battle)

    The War Inside Us (and The Lessons We Learn While Doing Battle)

    There’s an internal battle that we all fight. Between what we feel (sometimes irrational), what we know (learnt behaviours) and the truth. Some of us are better versed in the art of putting our own demons to rest, while the rest of us – and I fall into this category – are still learning.

    Whether it was getting older, losing friends, making new ones, becoming a mama, or just getting caught in the middle of a GLOBAL PANDEMIC, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s one or the other. And maybe it is all of the above. But regardless of why, the last few years have taught me a few things about myself. Some of it great, like that I have some real grit when I need it. That I am at heart, a problem-solver. And some of it not so pretty, like being reactive instead of responsive. Taking thing personally. Being overcome by anxiety. There is a power in taking ownership of who we are, flaws an’ all, and loving ourselves through the journey of being better. Better humans. Better partners. Better parents. Better children. Just better. So by writing down some of these things I’ve learnt, I hope to use them to remember this, and I hope it helps me to be better.

    1. It hurts like hell to lose a friend. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how much fight you have in you, to try make things right, there comes a time that we should rather say goodbye graciously (and gratefully) and move forward in love. As in life, friendships too, have seasons. Some friendships are stronger for it and some are beautiful in that they only bloom for that season. Close the chapter and when you think back on all the happy times, do so with joy.
    2. You can make new friends out of the most unexpected people. We change, we grow and we see things from a different perspective. We grow to respect people who we previously felt we had little in common with. We find ourselves looking to these people with admiration and love. Whether it is our children, or our circumstances that first bring us together, there is comfort in knowing that there are people who relate. People we can call on. And people that teach us to view things from a different angle. This is a gift that I embrace with both arms and a happy heart.
    3. Some friends are more than friends. They are our soul mates. Our anchors. Our multipliers of joy and shoulders to cry on. There are friends who we may not see in a year, but the distance between us is nothing at all, because they are always connected and always present. Nurture these friendships because they are one of life’s great rewards.
    4. It’s ok to change your mind. Just because when you were five, you loved bovril toast dipped in ice-cream, doesn’t mean that’s something you have to love your whole life through. As our realities change, so do we. We adapt. We re-assess. We create. And sometimes we start again. It’s ok to change your career. It’s ok to get a new hobby. It’s ok to love someone new. If something no longer serves you, or brings you great joy, then let it go. Do all things with integrity and thoughtfulness. But do the things that make your soul soar. Be brave. Make the change. Life is way too short to be doing the things we believe we should vs the things we love.
    5. We are fragile. But we are infinitely stronger than we feel. If this pandemic has shown us anything (repeatedly), it is that human beings are a fragile species. We have had to accept that though we truly do not have control over everything, the human spirit gives us infinite strength. Strength the keep fighting. Strength to keep loving. Strength to grieve. Strength to pick up the pieces, again and again and to NEVER give up. No matter how this pandemic has affected you, be it financially, emotionally or physically, just know that we do truly posses a great strength inside of us. The strength to survive. The strength to smile through the tears. And the strength to be exceptional. So when you wake up tomorrow, give yourself a high-five and go out and kick some ass!
    6. Children are our wisest teachers (if we allow them to be). We will never see ourselves as clearly as we do through the eyes of a child. They teach us to believe in miracles again. To view the world in wonder and to feel the magic in the every-day moments. They make you believe in yourself and in the goodness of humanity. They turn your world upside down and shake up your priorities in a way that feels like it was always meant to be. We are surrounded by great teachers – all they ask of us, is that we come play.
    7. There is peace in acceptance. In truly letting go. Of allowing things to unfold as they will. Of relinquishing control and trusting that all is as it should be. Embracing that it is not your job to fix (read control) everything, and that just because something is not done the way you would do it, doesn’t make it wrong. Maybe it’s even better? Anxiety is a bitch and if we let her – she will wreak havoc on our mental health. So breathe in, exhale, and really, truly, let go of that which you can’t control.
    8. We are all connected. No one can truly live a life separate from others. Even when we were locked up in our houses we were all connected. Whether we connect physically, emotionally or spiritually, there is a domino effect that is triggered by our actions. We can choose to spread dissent and hatred. To foster fear. Or, we can choose to spread love, joy, hope and happiness. Make sure your domino effect is one you can be proud of.
    9. Love is not enough. But it sure makes life worth living. If you are lucky enough to have found ‘your person’ or your people, be it your lover, your bestie, your child, your tribe, hold on to them with everything you’ve got. Make sure you tell them every day how much you love them. Show them what they mean to you. Make that phone call. Send that message. Don’t live with the regret of wishing you had done more once they are gone.
    10. Life is beautiful. And tragic. It is exuberance and tragedy. It will build you up and break you down. It will crack you open and make you feel things so fiercely you will barely be able to breathe. And it will soothe you and wipe away your tears. It will reveal the that the essence of humanity is good. We just need to believe to see it.

    What has life shown you? I’d love to hear the lessons from your perspective.

    With love and light,

    Tash

  • The Truth Inside

    The Truth Inside

    This is a piece I wrote on the 6th of April 2017. Four and a half years ago. I’m not sure why I didn’t post it. I’m posting it now as a reminder. A call to action. A pause for reflection. Nothing changes unless we do.

    In tumultuous times it’s easy for us to point fingers and find fault. It’s so much harder to look inside, to really look, and find ourselves lacking.

    I looked inside and found that I am a selfish person. 

    My soul is sad.
    My soul is sad because there are people I love that have spent their every breathing moment living with prejudice. My soul is sad because there are people that I love that harbour a hate for each other, so deeply ingrained, they can’t recall why, so we blame it on history. My soul sears with the burning of injustice, that every morning as I drive to work, I see the faces of the world-weary, who are walking to work, to earn a below-living-wage because their choices have been limited. They have no choice. I see the hopelessness in the eyes of the homeless, begging for a piece of bread, and maybe, just maybe, a little piece of humanity. For someone to acknowledge them, look them in the eye, and say “I see you”. I hurt because I fear losing friends and family to the perceived safety and opportunity in lands afar. My sadness stretches centuries long, through the ages of slavery, apartheid and repression. At not being able to comprehend how a human, treats another human, as anything other than an equal. I am sad because I love my country and all it’s people and because I am the eternal optimist who believes one day peace will prevail.

    Perhaps it is my guilt that causes this deep sadness. Perhaps it is my privilege that allows me my optimisim. Perhaps. But I know my souls truth. I believe in freedom above all else. The freedom to choose, the freedom to fight, the freedom to love without boundaries and the freedom to be a South African. I have no exit plan. That’s why I am selfish. I want a happily ever after in the land that birthed me. And I want it with all the people I love. 

    I can’t ask you all not to safely stash those exit strategies at the forefront of your thoughts. That would be asking you to give up the freedom I so intrinsically believe in. But, I will ask you not to lose hope. Not to give up. Not before you give it your all.

    Our country is bleeding from wounds so deep that it’s not enough just to stem the flow. We need to look at the “why” before we lash out at the “what”. Empathy is what sets human beings apart from the rest of the animal kingdom. We cannot allow fear, misunderstanding and hurt to rob us of our empathy. Of our humanity.

    I have always harboured a childish fantasy that one day we would wake up and we would all look the same. That there would be no race or custom to divide us. That the worlds history of hate and division, and  generations of hurt it has left in its wake would be erased. That then, maybe, we could live in peace. 

    I know this can never happen. But I still have hope that the world can find peace and unity within our differences. Who wants to live in a world of people who are all the same? We should rejoice in our differences. Embrace the wisdom of other cultures and broaden our perspectives by engaging in dialogues that make us uncomfortable. That make us question.

    Some scars run so deep that they will always serve as a reminder of what has come before. And that is something we have to accept and take responsibility for. We cannot change the past. But we can all play a part in a future that is ours for the making.

    There is no unity without understanding. No understanding without empathy. Fear, division, misunderstanding and hate can only threaten our humanity if we invite them into our homes. 

    We can all be kind, we can all be human and we can all be better. For it is then we will stand together. Acknowledgement, action and hope for a truly free nation.

  • A Life More Ordinary

    A Life More Ordinary

    I battle to believe we are already living the second half of 2021. We had such high hopes for this year. It was going to be the redemption of 2020. The reaping after the reset. The rainbow after the rain. But somehow, here we are, reliving Groundhog Day again.

    I could say it’s been a hard week, which it has, but honestly it’s been a hard year and it may be another hard one to come. There’s very little you or I can do individually, to eradicate covid or to rebuild our broken economy. For most of us, it’s taking everything we have just to keep head above water. Collectively though, we can promote positivity, we can act kindly and we can extend grace to everyone we meet.

    What struck me this week was a realization of what I miss most. What I felt covid has robbed us of. An ordinary life. Not unprecedented times. Not extraordinary circumstances, just a stock standard, garden variety life, filled with family and friends. Being able to hug the people we care about. Seeing someone’s face light up when they smile. Helping someone pick up something they’ve dropped. Wiping away the tears of a little child. Touch. Leaving the house without a mask. Ordinary. Every day things. Things we took for granted before the covid chronicles. Weddings, funerals, baby showers that didn’t have to be a drive by because “3rd wave” and all that comes with it. A social life.

    I may aspire to succeed and to achieve remarkable things professionally. But honestly? Right now, all I really hope for is to get by. To have the opportunity every day to do something ordinary. And to take photos of these ordinary moments. To remember there was something normal to hold on to in these extraordinary times.

    Let’s celebrate the every day events. Let’s revel in average and let us never forget the power of an ordinary day.

    xoxo

  • A Better Tomorrow

    A Better Tomorrow

    No matter how many years we are blessed with to walk this earth, when we lose someone we love, it always feels like life is just too short. It is hard to understand, when someone who should still have had so much life left to live, is taken from us far too young. And harder still to accept, when they leave behind families, partners, children, who will live with their loss every day, for as long as they breathe, because let’s face it, grief never really goes away. It changes. It softens. The rough edges smooth out. But it stays with us and becomes part of who we are.

    Regret is a terrible thing. Mostly because it’s often avoidable but because of ego, our stubborn human nature, or sadly, just holding on to a grudge a little too long, things are often left too late and we find ourselves on the wrong side of time, with is a sore heart and a bucket full of should’ve, would’ve, wish-I-could’ve’s.

    We can never go back and re-write history but we can move forward towards a better tomorrow. So let’s commit to being present and available for our loved ones, our friends and family, while we still have the opportunity. Let’s tell our people we love them, let’s step away from work, from deadlines and from our devices and let’s live. Let us prioritise balance, let us invest in ourselves, in our relationships and in our spiritual well-being. Let’s not make excuses and allow fear to drive our narrative. Let us take back the power and manifest magic for ourselves and everyone within our circle. Let us not be afraid to set boundaries and to walk away from environments, relationships or circumstances that make us sick. Whether physically, mentally or spiritually, let us own our health and afford ourselves the same courtesy we afford others.

    You matter. We have no guarantees in this life. And it can so often feel like a cruel game of Russian roulette. But let us take control of the things within our sphere of influence and ensure we allow ourselves every chance of a happy, fulfilled life and not a lifetime plagued with regret.

    Take that break. Check in on your friend. Tell your parents you love them. Eat some veggies. Go play with your kids and make that appointment and get your health checked.

    Here’s to those who are no longer here with us in the physical realm, but who will always be with us in spirit.

  • So Over Corona…

    So Over Corona…

    It’s been four months. Four never-ending, infinite months, that have passed in the blink of an eye. Four months filled with crafting and crosswords, banana breads and bake-a-thons. Embracing “working from home”, and appreciating the quality time with our loved ones…

    Four months of slowly unraveling. Of coming apart at the seams. Fours months that have blurred into an indistinguishable mess, of my mental health, turning me in a “mental-self”.

    There have been good days and bad days and days in-between. Days where we galvanized and showed our true grit. Days filled with hope that this time we would get it right. As we were inspired by the man elected to lead. We took up his call to arms, to stay home and to keep the faith.

    Then days became weeks. And the weeks became months. Our hopes emptied out into the ocean we are not allowed to swim in. Our resolve washed away with the dregs at the bottom of our now empty wine glasses. We got sad. We got angry. We got reckless.

    In trying to find the balance between saving lives and saving livelihoods, we‘ve each become blinded by our own perspective. Nothing quite like a global pandemic to bring out the worst, and the best, in people right?

    I am tired.

    Tired of looking at the bright-side. Tired of the anxiety this virus has brought us. Tired of trying our best not to catch it, while secretly hoping we’ve had it and recovered. Tired of putting in countless hours behind a computer screen and still not having enough money to pay the bills. Tired of hearing my son screaming on the other side of the office door because “sorry boy, mommy needs to work”. Again. Tired of the guilt from watching my husband be our hero and nailing daddy-daycare – every day, because we are too scared to send our child back to school. Or maybe we just can’t afford it. But right now I actually think we can’t afford not to. Tired of feeling ragged. Tired of being tired. Tired of holding back tears as I snap at my husband once again, because I need someone to hear me. Tired of watching businesses close and people lose jobs. Tired of masks and sanitizer. Tired of people dying when it didn’t need to be that way. Tired of living in a filthy house, because who has the time to clean, and work, and mom, and human? Tired of feeling like I could be better, do better. Tired of eating my feelings. Tired of being so angry that I’m constantly on the brink of exploding.

    So very tired of the mental juggle.

    This has been a week fraught with emotions. Of meltdowns and burnouts and “all-fall-apart”. It’s the culmination of the four months that corona has stolen from us. It’s the hopelessness of not knowing where it will end.

    Next week will be better. I’ll go back to looking for silver linings. I’ll show my agility and strength of character. I will make a plan and push though. I will be the “better” version of myself. But for now, for tonight, it’s ok to be so over corona. I’m going to drink the last of my wine. Lie in the sun tomorrow. And fantasize about sending my son back to school and having a few hours where I don’t have to human.

    Screw you Corona. I want our 2020 back.

  • Navigating the Coronacoaster

    Navigating the Coronacoaster

    Sometimes words fail us. Sometimes, the feelings are so overwhelming, that it takes every little bit of inner strength we have left, to gulp for air. Sometimes, there isn’t a right or a wrong. And it’s ok to feel disappointed. Hurt. Angry. Scared. It’s also ok to look on the bright side. To hold on to the silver lining and to hope for a better tomorrow.

    I’ve experienced all of the above over the last few weeks. I was one of those that started off incredibly positive. #PositivityOverPanic. I stood firmly behind the decisions of our leaders, and was fully prepared to weather the storm. We knew it was going to be tough. We knew that it would be inconvenient, We also knew that it was going to be financially ruinous but that we would make it. We just had to hold on and hope.

    We were a nation united for the first time in decades. United behind a President who inspired us. Who we respected. Who we trusted whole-heartedly to lead us. To protect our people. And to keep us safe.

    I made home-made play-dough for my son. Created art and crafts. The husband set up our tent in the garden and we lay under the trees and read stories to our son. I photographed lockdown life to remember these times. Practiced gratitude for my family. My home. The food in my cupboards. And yes, the wine on my counter.

    Then three weeks became five. And my old friend anxiety came to visit. This time though, she did not come alone and she brought along with her fear. Fear started to permeate the fabric of our every day. In the angry Facebook posts. In the calls for civil disobedience. In friends, turning on friends, in disagreement of “What is really going on?”, and “What’s the real agenda?”.

    Fear woke me at night by showing me spreadsheets of the bills we have to pay vs the money coming in. Fear robbed me of the power to be positive, by bombarding my news feed with negativity, by filling my messages with despondence and by exploiting those who were looking for answers, by feeding them fake news and conspiracy theories. Fear left me lying on my office floor in tears. Crying. Sobbing. Hyperventilating.

    How could we be living in a world where we were no longer allowed to hug? What kind of reality would it be where our children are forced to wear masks. Where we were not allowed to swim in the ocean? Where lonely people became more lonely due to isolation. And the hungry started to starve?

    The thing about a good cry is, that it’s always cathartic. It didn’t fix anything. And it left me with an almighty headache. But it did lighten the emotional load.

    I have realised that navigating this Coronacoaster is more about allowing all feelings their time and space. I’ve realised that we have to allow for it to be ok to be grateful for what we have, while mourning what we’ve lost. We need to be able to express our frustration of not being able to buy wine and swim in the ocean. Feeling this way doesn’t mean we are not aware of the far greater things that are at risk. It just means we are coping in the only way we know how. It’s ok to feel guilty for a warm bed and that woolies grocery run. Its ok to want to tell the teller that you’re living off three maxed-out credit cards on rotation. Its ok to feel judged for your privilege, and its ok that this makes you angry. Its ok to allow yourself to feel the frustration of seeing hungry people every day and not being able to help. It’s ok to be hopeful and hopeless, and happy and sad, all in the space of 60 minutes. It’s ok to look for answers. To think you’ve found them. And it’s ok to change your mind. It’s ok to have an unpopular opinion, and its ok to voice it. It’s also ok to be silent. To observe. Or even to completely switch off and disengage. It’s ok to be ok. And it’s ok, not to be. Every feeling is valid.

    I have found myself to be far more reactive than responsive over this time. I have allowed my emotions to run wild and to lead me astray. That’s also ok. I am working on it.

    What’s not ok is to turn on each other. It’s not ok to incite an uprising – remember where we come from and how quickly things can turn violent. It’s not ok to judge others when the respond differently to us. It’s not ok to disregard someone’s beliefs. It’s not ok to minimise someone’s pain. Our challenges and our pain are relative, and we can all only try to do our best.

    It is not ok to turn on each other.

    Times of crisis bring out the best and the worst in humanity. We have witnessed both over the past few weeks. My prayer is that at the end of this, (because it will end one day) goodness will have triumphed. That we chose kindness, and that we rise as a nation united.

    Until then, I will have good days and bad days. I will have some really awful days. I will cry because I miss the ocean. I will battle to find the words to express the emptiness of not being able to see our families, or visit our friends. I will get stressed-out over how we will pay our bills. I will snap. I will shout at my child. I will feel guilty. I will wish I had a glass of wine. I will also wish we could just have our old lives back and I will rage over how much I hate Corona. BUT…

    I will also circle back to hope. I will see the beauty in watching my son grow. I will watch in gratitude as I see my husband grow into the most incredible father. I will give thanks for the safety and health of my family and friends. I will snuggle my dogs. Hold my husband’s hand and keep dreaming of the day that I will run without restriction straight into that deep, blue sea.

  • Privilege as Defined by Covid-19

    Privilege as Defined by Covid-19

    You bemoan the unfairness of being allowed to go to the shops but not being able to run, or walk your dogs, while others are wondering how they will shop from a locked-down township, with no public transport.

    You worry if you’ve stocked up with enough wine, treats and good food, while others are wondering how they will feed their families from next week.

    You begrudging buy the last of the no-name sanitizer, because your brand is sold out, while others wonder how to wash their children’s hands with no running water.

    You can’t believe you have to spend 21 days inside, with the partners you chose, and the babies you made, in your 3 bedroom homes, while others wonder where they are going to put their grandmother when they are already 10 to a 1 bedroom shack.

    You wonder how you will pass the days between Netflix, your garden, puzzles and books, while others are wondering how to keep their families and the vulnerable safe in overrun townships with no infrastructure.

    Corona doesn’t discriminate. But those with privilege will in all likelihood survive. Those who are not, are most likely going to die if this virus makes itself at known in their homes.

    We are a nation who has 300 000 people living with TB.

    Over 7 million living with HIV.

    Hundreds of thousands with compromised immunity from disease, chemo, circumstance.

    For them catching Corona may well be a death sentence.

    So stop being so self-absorbed.

    Stay home.

    Be grateful. And think of ways to heal our broken economy once this is all over. We can make it through the other side IF we do it together 🖤